Consulting Angel Hunters
by AshleyTrecartin
Summary: Something strange has been going on in Cardiff for a long time and people are starting to notice. Sherlock has the case of a missing fiance. The Winchester brothers have flown across the ocean to see if there is a case to work, and Torchwood enlists the help of their favorite time traveling Doctor and his Rose. What do all of these people have in common? One very deadly foe.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note:

I've just recently started watching Supernatural, I'm only five episodes into season three. This was something I thought of, and the best idea to make it work with all three. I also owe a bit of thanks to a friend who said I should do this, because I wasn't (and I'm still not) sure that I can pull this off. So, without further ado, here it is.

Consulting Angel Hunters  
Prolog

"Sherlock!" Mrs. Hudson came running up the stairs. Sherlock was sitting on the sofa with his eyes closed taking even deep breaths. John had hid his secret stash—again, along with all of the firearms and sharp knives. Why? Because Sherlock was bored. "Sherlock, dear, there's someone here to see you about a case."

Sherlock's eyes snapped open. "Is it a good case? No, forget that, at this point I'll take anything. Send them in." He looked up as a young blonde woman entered the flat. Mrs. Hudson got her settled in one of the arm chairs as John walked in.

"Who's this?"

The young woman looked at John answering him. Sherlock didn't pay attention; he was too busy reading this possible client. She was young, probably around twenty-one and she wasn't a natural blonde. Sherlock could see dark roots starting to poke through at the base of her scalp. Her eyes were red and puffy, she had been crying—recently, but they were wide, like she had been scared. There was an engagement ring on her finger, not an expensive one so she had to be lower middle class. The way she kept fidgeting with it and glancing at it Sherlock assumed she was here about her fiancé.

"So why are you here?" John asked.

"My fiancé disappeared. I-I don't know how, he just vanished."

"Yes, I'm going to need a little more to go on than that, so skip the dramatics please."

"Being rude, Sherlock."

"No, it's alright." The woman—Stacy—took a deep, calming breath and looked at Sherlock. "We're photographers; we were at this old church out in Cardiff taking photos. Jake was in the same room with me, taking photos of the statuary while I was setting up the lights. He was asking me if I remembered to bring something, I don't know what because mid-sentence he stopped talking and the camera dropped. He was just gone, I looked everywhere."

"Is it possible he just, I don't know, ran away?" John asked. "People don't just disappear into thin air."

Stacy shook her head. "I looked everywhere and he left everything, his phone, wallet, car keys. He just…vanished." She looked at Sherlock. "Please, you're the best detective, if anyone can find him you can. Please Sherlock, help."

xXx

"Sammy, you want to tell me what we're doing here?" Dean asked as they pulled the Impala into yet another cheap motel.

"There have been a string of people disappearing, just vanishing into thin air. It's not just recently either; it's been going on for decades." Sam stepped from the car and caught the room key Dean tossed at him. "I think there is a case here."

"People disappear all the time Sam, they just pack up and leave, looking for something better. Dean grabbed the bags out of the backseat and walked inside the shitty room. "I mean, there's nothing special about that."

"They're not just packing up and leaving, Dean. They're disappearing, dropping everything. Their cars get left behind, family, friends, they don't take anything. They just disappear." Sam took his bag from Dean and pulled his lap top out. "Just let me look around a little bit, two days. If there's nothing here, we can leave and go somewhere else."

Dean sighed as he jumped onto one of the beds. "Sammy, you dragged us across the ocean to this rainy, dismal city, by plane no less. You better hope something is here."

"Or what?" Sam countered. "You'll shoot me?"

"Bitch."

"Jerk."

xXx

"Why are we back in Cardiff?" Rose looked up at the Doctor with a quizzical look. "I mean, there's no rift here, not in this universe, so what are we doing here?"

The Doctor put his glasses on and looked at the view screen, reading whatever was written there. He had been teaching her Gallifreyan, but Rose still had a ways to go before she was able to keep up with everything. She could at least write her name, the Doctor's name, (just 'The Doctor' because he still wouldn't tell her his real name), all of her family, and a few simple words.

"I got a call from Torchwood while you were asleep. They want me to check something out." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Apparently people have been disappearing for decades, all around the same area, and they think there might be something supernatural about it."

Rose froze a little bit, fear starting to prickle around the edges of her mind. "Doctor, you told me about the Weeping Angels…do you think?"

"Possibly, it's the only explanation I can think of." He removed his glasses and put them back in his pocket.

"Doctor, how are we supposed to fight against them? You told me about them, we can't look at them, so what are we supposed to do?"

He sighed and looked at her. "Be extremely careful."


	2. Chapter 2

Consulting Angel Hunters

Chapter One

"This place is a little dismal for a church, don't you think?"

Sam rolled his eyes as he stepped out of the car. "Dean, this hasn't operated as a church in over one hundred years." He grabbed one of the EMF readers and his gun. "They don't tear it down because it's holy ground."

"Exactly, it's holy ground, so how is a demon behind this?"

"Remember that Father that was appearing as an angel and telling people to commit murder?"

"I still don't buy it; I think it's just a case of runaway."

Sam ignored Dean and walked into the church. He had a feeling about this place, and more often than not his feelings were right. The church was old, places were beginning to crumble and sunlight shone through holes in the ceiling. Dust and cobwebs covered everything, even the intricate molding around the baseboards. "I'm telling you, Dean, there's something off about this place."

Dean sighed. "Alright, well we're here let's give it a look. What's the run down on this place?"

Sam reached into his bag and pulled out the files on the case. "The church was built in 1894 by one Mr. Harry Jonson. It was closed down and labeled condemned ten years later after fifty unrelated disappearances, all taking place inside this church. Over the years more and more people have disappeared, leaving behind equipment, cars, loved ones."

Dean looked around. "Well, that helps. Other than the disappearances have there been any deaths?"

Sam shook his head. "No, nothing, no deaths, no murders, the church wasn't built on top of any ancient burial grounds or cemeteries. Nothing."

"Well then what the hell is going on here, Sammy?"

"That's what I would like to know."

The Winchesters turned around, guns ready and looked at the two men who walked into the church. "Who the hell are you?" Dean asked.

The taller one looked bored. "Sherlock Holmes, this is Doctor John Watson. Who are you?"

Dean looked at Sam, neither one of them buying the name. "Sherlock Holmes? Really, and I thought our aliases were bad."

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "If you'll get those guns lowered to something other than my face, I'd be happy to show you our identification cards." Slowly Sam and Dean lowered their guns and watched as Sherlock and Watson approached them. "See, Sherlock Holmes and John Watson." They handed over their cards.

"I'll be damned." Sam looked the pair over.

"So, do you two really solve mysteries and stuff?" Dean asked, clearly enjoying this more than he should be.

"Mysteries? Hardly. We take on cases. I'm not some Scooby-doo detective. I'm a consulting detective. Now. What are you doing here?"

"Sammy, check it out, they even live at 221b Baker Street."

Sam punched Dean in the arm and took the I.D.s from them, handing them back to Sherlock and John. "Sorry about him. I'm Sam, this is my brother Dean, we're—l"

"I know who you are," Sherlock rolled his eyes again. "That's not what I asked."

"We're investigating some disappearances." Sam furrowed his brows in confusion. "Sorry, how do you know who we are?"

"The Americans come to me from time to time asking if I'll help find you. Though, I never bother to waste my time on such trivial matters."

"Being rude, again, Sherlock."

"Look, boys, I bet you're just itching to figure out what's going on here," Dean said, "but this is our case, we were here first."

Sherlock was about to open his mouth to argue when a loud noise sounded just outside. "Do you have friends?" John asked.

"It's not us, who did you bring?" Dean countered.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Do I look like I need backup?"

"Guys, knock it off." Sam pushed past the two detectives and walked outside. There wasn't any other cars, not even one that Sherlock and John had shown up in. "There's no one…wait a minute…was that police box here earlier?"

"Police box?" John poked his head out and looked. "Why would there be a police box here?"

The doors opened and a tall man in a suit and a young blonde girl walked out. "Well, that's kinky," Dean murmured. "How does that work?"

The man looked up at them and instantly became confused. "Who the bloody hell are all of you?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "This is turning into a freaking ghost hunter fest." He strapped his gun into the waist band of his jeans. "Look, whoever you two are, we already told Sherlock and Watson here that this is our case, we were here first. Get lost."

"Sherlock and Watson?" the young woman looked over at the two in question. "No, you can't be. Sherlock Holmes and John Watson?" She looked up at her friend. "Can it? I mean…they were fictional characters."

The man shrugged his shoulders. "I suppose it's possible, we are in a parallel world. Pete didn't exist in yours but he does here. Maybe Sherlock and John do too."

"I'm sorry, parallel universe? Who the hell are you two?" Sam asked. This whole thing had turned into one huge basket of crazy.

"Oh, right, sorry. I'm the Doctor and this is Rose Tyler, who are you?"

"Sam and Dean Winchester, and Doctor who?" Sam asked.

Rose grinned a little and shook her head. "It's just the Doctor," he said walking up the stairs to the church. "Now, if I could make a suggestion, please leave."

"No way Doc, we already told you, we were here first."

"Dean, was it?"

"Yes."

"Right, Dean. You have no idea what is going on here and your little minds are a little too small to wrap around the concept—no offense Sherlock—so I suggest you all leave before you get yourselves killed."

"Is that a threat?" Dean asked.

"Don't be ridiculous!" The Doctor groaned and sighed. "Look, people aren't disappearing, they're being killed."

"By what?" Sherlock asked.

"Ah, now, that's a little more complicated." Rose stepped between the men to try and cool down some of the testosterone that was flying around. "Look, Doctor, it's clear that these two aren't going to leave, and I really don't want Sherlock to leave, he's basically a celebrity, why don't we just work together?"

"Absolutely not."

"That's ridiculous."

"I'd rather die."

Rose looked at the three pigheaded men. "Dean, they may be able to help, I mean Sherlock isn't exactly stupid, and the Doctor seems to know what he's talking about."

"They have a point, Sherlock. You can't always do things on your own."

Rose looked at the Doctor. "It wouldn't be the first time we've had help from someone." The three men all looked at each other, and though no one actually said anything, they all seemed to reach some kind of agreement. "Good, now that we've settled that, have you been inside yet?" she asked looking over at the other four.

"Yeah, but there's nothing in there, our EMF readers aren't picking up on anything."

The Doctor shook his head. "They wouldn't, they're not spirits or demons you're looking for."

"Oh, of course it isn't, they don't exist."

"You'd be surprised, Sherlock." Dean headed back inside, everyone else following them. "If it's not demons, then what the hell is it?"

"They're called Weeping Angels."

"Angels?" Dean rolled his eyes. "Oh, here we go again."

Rose crossed her arms and looked at him. "Not angels as in warriors of god. They're stone angels, they're evil."

"How can a stone statue be evil?" John asked. "It's just a statue."

"That's they're defense mechanism," the Doctor said, leaning against one of the rotting pews. "When you look at an angel it can't move, it's dormant, asleep, but the second you look at it, it comes to life."

"But you just said that when you look at it they can't move," Sam pointed out.

"That's right, but, if you look at them, you wake them up. Once they're awake they're deadly." Rose leaned beside the Doctor and took over the explanation, having done research and listening to the Doctor tell her all about the on the way over here. "When you look away from an angel that's been woken up they'll kill you. But they do it in a nice way."

"A nice way? I've been in this business a long time, there is no nice way." Dean was getting more and more agitated. He hated working with anyone other than Sammy, and these two who showed up in a police box weren't making any sense.

"If an Angel touches you, it sends you back in time, to live out your life until you die."

"So, how do we beat them?" Dean asked.

"That's the thing, I've only ever faced the Weeping Angels once, and I didn't do it alone, I had help. I don't know that there is a way to kill them." The Doctor pushed off the pew and looked at Sherlock. "You don't alright? This isn't exactly logical."

"Oh, I think you're all mad. Stone angels that can move?" Sherlock shook his head. "Come on, John, let's get out of here." Sherlock turned to leave, and came face to face with a stone angel that hadn't been there before, its arm outstretched and ready to touch him, sending him back in time.

"Sherlock, whatever you do, don't blink," the Doctor warned.

"Don't blink? How is he supposed to do that?" John asked.

"If he winks one eye at a time, call it a loophole in the contract." Rose walked over to Sherlock's side and took his hand. "I'm going to ease you back, just take small steps. That's it, nice and slow." She walked him back until he was far enough away from the angel.

"So how do we kill these sons of bitches?" Dean asked.

Rose looked at the Doctor; he was staring at the angel too, just in case Sherlock snapped out of it. "Doctor, would those guns we used on the Daleks work?"

He shook his head. "I don't know, in theory, they should."

"I'll go get them, it's worth a shot." Rose looked over at Sam. "Sam, mind coming with me, you know, just in case?"

"Yeah, sure." Sam started to follow her out of the church.

"Sammy, be careful," Dean called out after them.

Rose led Sam back outside and pulled her TARDIS key out from under her shirt and unlocked the doors. "What's inside there?" Sam asked.

Rose flashed him a smirk. "You're good with impossible things, right?" she asked.

"I guess, yeah." Rose pushed open the doors and walked inside. Sam followed, completely confused. How was anything supposed to be hiding inside a small wooden…holy shit. Everything he'd ever known about mass was thrown out the window. Inside the small little box was huge. "Its…bigger on the inside."

Rose grinned. "Now I know why he loves that so much." She put a hand on his arm. "It's called the TARDIS, Time And Relative Dimension In Space."

"So…it's a…a what?" Sam asked.

"It's a space ship that can travel through time. Guns are this way," she said walking down a hallway.

"How big is this exactly?" Sam asked as he followed her.

"Not sure, she likes to move the rooms around a lot. The other night it took me five hours to find my room; I think she was mad at me."

"She? She who?"

Rose smiled and shook her head. "Never mind." She opened the door to a room and walked inside. She walked over to a closet and pulled out four extremely large guns. "Here, take two," she said handing them to him.

Sam took them and grunted under their weight. "Not exactly light, are they?"

Back in the church the Doctor and Sherlock were still having a staring contest with a stone angel. "You two need a break?" John asked.

"This is ridiculous, stone can't move on its own."

"You'd be surprised, Sherlock," the Doctor said. "I'd love a break, thanks John." He took his eyes off the angel and let John take over. He noticed how Sherlock let his eyes drift away from it for the first time since he'd spotted it. "So, Dean, what exactly do you and your brother do for a living?"

"We hunt." Dean looked from the angel to the Doctor. "What do you and your little friend do?"

"We're travelers."

Dean rolled his eyes. "You seem to know an awful lot about this kind of stuff for travelers."

"Yes, how do you know about this kind of thing?" Sherlock asked.

"Because he's the meta crisis clone of a nine hundred year old alien and he's faced these things before." They looked up as Rose and Sam came back in the room. She and Sam were each carrying two of the massive guns. The Doctor still wasn't comfortable with him, but it was their best shot at getting rid of the angels. Sam handed one of the guns to Dean and Rose put the other one of hers down on one of the pews. "Ready boys?"

"John, keep your eyes on it, but move out of the way, slowly," the Doctor said, helping John maneuver around the broken stone laying everywhere. "Okay, Rose, Sam, and Dean, make sure you all fire at the same time."

"Alright boys, on the count of three." Rose lifted her gun and aimed it at the angel. "Oh, and hold on tight, they've got a nasty kick." Rose counted down and when she three they all shot. Surprisingly they worked and the angel was blown to pieces, a shrill scream pierced the air.


	3. Chapter 3

Consulting Angel Hunters

Chapter Three

"That was, slightly disturbing." Dean put the gun down and looked around. "So, evil stone angel is dead, can we go now?"

The Doctor shook his head. "Take a look around you—not literally. There are stone statues everywhere and any of them could be an angel. We can't just leave them and let other people fall prey to them."

"We can't exactly go around and blast every stone angel, can we?" Sam asked.

"I don't see why not." John looked at one of the guns Rose had brought back with her. "These things, where did you get them? They're not military."

Rose smirked. "No, they're Torchwood."

"What the bloody hell is Torchwood?" Sherlock asked.

"That's a story for another time, Sherlock." The Doctor put his hands in his pockets and looked around. He really didn't want to go around and commit a genocide, but these angels were dangerous and there was only one way to make sure that no one died again because of them. iThe needs of the many out way the needs of the few, or the one,/i as Spock would say. However, that didn't mean he couldn't have a little fun with it. "Alright, here's what we'll do. We have four guns, but I don't use guns, so we'll split up into three teams. Sam, you can go with Rose."

"Why can't I go with her?" Dean asked, looking over at Rose, looking her up and down like a hungry wolf.

"Because that is my fiancé, and the way you just looked at her lost you all right to be within a five foot vicinity of her." Dean backed off a bit and the Doctor smirked, giving Rose a wink. She loved it when he got possessive. "Sherlock, you can go with Dean, and John, you can come with me."

John strapped one of the guns to his shoulder as he walked over to him. "Sherlock do you want one?" he asked.

"No, I'll leave the blasting to Mr. Winchester."

"More fun for me." Dean smirked and crossed his arms over the gun hanging in front of his chest. "So, let's go kill some evil sons of bitches."

xXx

Dean glanced at Sherlock as they walked down of the creepy ass corridors of the old church. He couldn't wrap his brain around the fact that this was really Sherlock Holmes. "So, Sherlock how's Moriarty?" he asked.

"Dead the last I checked," Sherlock answered dryly. He rolled his eyes as he looked around. "Honestly, you can't tell me you really believe that stone angels can move."

Dean looked at him like he was crazy. "You're kidding right? You saw that one back there move. What else would explain that?"

Sherlock looked at him. "Mirrors, or animatronics, stone cannot move."

Dean sighed. "Well, believe whatever you want Sherlock, but in my profession, stranger things have happened." Like chasing down psychotic demons on a daily basis.

"I'll prove it to you." Sherlock walked over to a stone angel that had been tucked away in the dark. It's hands were covering its face, like it was crying. He looked at it, and then turned around and walked back over to Dean. "See? Nothing."

Dean didn't answer, because as soon as Sherlock had turned away and Dean had looked down to make sure the gun was ready to be fired, the angel had moved. Now, it was directly behind Sherlock, hand outstretched, ready to touch him. Dean stared at it. "Sherlock, move. Slowly." He pulled his gun up, aiming it directly at the angel. Hopefully one gun would be enough to send it back to hell, or wherever it came from.

"What are you…?" Sherlock turned around and looked at the angel, fear coloring his face a nice shade of ghostly white. "That's…not possible." He slowly moved and allowed Dean to blast it.

"Yeah, well, I think we've moved past your conceptions of possible and impossible."

xXx

John looked at the Doctor and narrowed his eyes a bit. He didn't act, or look like any doctor he had ever seen before. "So, mystery aside, what's your name, really?"

The Doctor looked at him. "I told you, I'm the Doctor."

"Be serious, no one is called "The Doctor" it's just not natural."

"Do I look like a normal person to you?"

John rolled his eyes. "Okay, so you're called the Doctor, whatever, but back there, that girl, Rose, she said you were a clone of some nine hundred year old alien. Surely that can't be possible, right?"

The Doctor grinned from behind his glasses. "You just found out that stone angels can move and kill people by sending them back in time, and I arrived here in a big blue box. You tell me."

John shook his head and looked forward again, stopping in his tracks. "Doctor, is that one of them?"

The Doctor looked down the hall at an angel that was poking around from behind a stone pillar. "Yeah, that's one of them."

"Right." John pulled the gun, aiming at the angel and shot it without a second thought. "There, one down." He looked at the Doctor. "So you're an alien?"

"Yeah, is that a problem?"

John shook his head. "Nope. What about Rose is she an alien too?"

The Doctor chuckled. "No, she's human. And I suppose technically I am too. I have a human body, one heart, one life, but I still have the memories and power of a Time Lord. That's what I am, a Time Lord."

"So you're a clone of an alien, traveling around with your human fiancé in a big blue police box?" The Doctor nodded with a smile. John shrugged and kept watching for angels. "Alright then."

xXx

"So, you're engaged?" Sam asked as he and Rose walked down the hall. "You're not wearing a ring."

Rose smiled and looked at him. "In this profession, rings tend to either get lost or get in the way." She looked in front of her again. "We deal with this thing on a daily basis."

"You're kidding."

She shook his head. "Nope, you wouldn't believe the things I've seen."

Sam smirked. "Try me." He looked at her and smiled. "I've killed my fair share of werewolves and vampires, ghosts, the odd zombie or two, demons of all different kinds." He shrugged the gun into a better position. "It's a deadly life."

Rose nodded. "You have no idea. I've seen the Doctor die, twice, lost him once," she said smiling. "Now, though, we're together, and that's all that matters."

"What do you mean he's died twice?"

"He's an alien, it's complicated."

"You guys mentioned something about parallel worlds earlier, what was all of that about?" The notion wasn't completely impossible to him. It was a theory, and a very probable one at that.

Rose sighed as they slowly rounded a corner, watching the dark. "I'm not originally from this universe. I came from a different earth, we got sucked in through a gap in the dimensions, and I ended up here. I managed to get back to the other universe, but I was brought back here. It's a long story, and the gap has been closed." He could see a bit of sadness in her eyes but didn't ask about it. "In that other world, Sherlock Holmes was a fictional character."

Sam nodded and looked back in front of them, just in time to avoid walking into an angel. He quickly popped off a shot and stepped over the pile of broken stone. "Sounds like hell."


End file.
